


Lipstick

by Bigramen



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: F/M, How the fuck does Australian slang actually work, Lipstick, Masturbation, Multi, daydream, i have lost control of my life, someone come kill me
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-29
Updated: 2019-07-29
Packaged: 2020-07-25 01:44:17
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,337
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20024506
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bigramen/pseuds/Bigramen
Summary: Your face smacks into Junkrat’s chest and the lipstick mark gives him a boner.





	Lipstick

He found himself wondering what had happened in his past to cause this to be a problem. This. He huffed and stared at the purplish blotch on his chest, where your lipstick had left a mark. Sure, maybe he did stand a little too close to you. But if Roadhog hadn’t of “accidentally” bumped into him, he wouldn’t have smacked into you. It wasn’t his fault that your face was only chest-height to him. It counted as a kiss, right? He thought your first kiss together would have happened differently, but Roadhog, that sly dog, he had been trying to help him out, he was sure of it. Trying to get him and you to finally get things moving along! Hasn’t worked the greatest. He wrinkled his nose as the smudge, realizing it looked no different from bruises he had in the past. But this one...something about this made his heart beat. Made his mind wander. Made his cock hard. 

Fuck. 

He couldn’t think. Wires and scrap laid unorganized on his work bench, but none of them called to him. How long had it been since he felt like this? Radiation was, decidedly, fucking horrible, and made anything sexual near impossible. Mercy’s treatments had been working for the other side effects, but this was one part of him he thought he would never get back. Until, that is, he started to notice you. How your hips moved when you walked, how small you were compared to him. The tightness it caused in his pants made him feel feral, an itch he wasn’t quite able to scratch. And now, here in his workshop, he was distracted. Thinking about you and your stupid cunting lipstick. Again. 

With a frustrated grunt and cursory glance at the door, Junkrat loosened his belt buckle and opted to use his flesh hand to free himself from his tattered pants. He thought about what you would think if you found him hot and bothered like a teenager over a small smudge. Maybe it was a kiss? His brows were knitted together so close that they almost touched. Groaning out loud, he shifted to lean forward against his desk, his prosthetic arm resting to help stabilize his shaking form. 

Junkrat licked his chapped lips, completely lost in the several different trains of thought that were screaming through his brain. What if you came in and saw him like this? Maybe you would blush and try to leave, like a good girl would. He liked the idea of you being a good girl, practically innocent in every way, waiting for someone like him to lay their dirty hands on your soft flesh. He snorted to himself, never slowing down his pumping hand. He may be distracted easily, but even those tits could hold his attention. Christ. There was no way you hadn’t fucked before. Not looking like that. 

Chewing his lip, the thought of you being experienced made every brain cell he owned shiver. Maybe you would come in to his workshop, looking for more. Surely, being caught in his strong arms this morning had to have some effect, you face had been so red with blush. And, knowing all of the drongos you were surrounded by, there was no way you would be with any of them. The thought of you being just as repressed as him, needing this as much as he did, needing him as much as he needed you, was enough to help him pick up the pace. 

A small twinge of pain snapped Jamison back to reality, breaking his grueling pace as quickly as it started. His knuckles are white, and he’s damn near choking his cock right out. Relaxing the deathgrip, a giggle bubbles out of his mouth without too much effort. He really was a mess, wasn’t he? His flesh hand runs a thumb over the streaks of precum that he teased out, slicking his pink head with some much needed lubrication. Back in Oz, back when his dong wasn’t killed by radiation, he would just spit on his hand and be on his merry way. Here in civilization (he snorts to himself yet again), people used lube, and Angela had given him a bottle in case his “complications concluded.” It didn’t make sense to him then, and he had placed the bottle in the lower drawer of his workbench. He saw you more in his workshop than he did in his bedroom, and if the Lady Luck was smiling on him, he wanted to make sure he took good care of you. The best care. Needed you to come back to him again, and again. 

He hummed tunelessly as he poured a generous amount from the small bottle into his hand, stroking himself once more. Where was he? Ah, right, you were an experienced woman who needed to root as badly as he did. Maybe more so. Would he even be able to keep up with your appetite? He shivers as the cold gel rubs over his sensitive head, ripping an odd mixture of moans and giggles from his chest. You would saunter over to him, pulling your bra off and delicately draping yourself onto him like some sort of...seductress. Dancer? Wait, no, back up. Saunter in, with more lipstick, and kiss him more. On his dick. Ooooooh yeah, right on the head. Leave behind more of the lipstick... 

Like he saw the other day on the cell phone he stole while he was in town. Couldn’t have Overwatch knowing what got him goin’, right? Seems weird, especially with Athena. He had kept the phone for a day or two before it was deactivated, and in that time frame he managed to find a video he really liked to test-run the lube with. Only she...wait no, it was a he. Yeah, he wasn’t wearing lipstick or had tits. But that didnt matter, he did the right motions, the bobbing and the drool and the rolling eyes as he sucked a thick cock like it was the only thing keeping him alive. 

Junkrat grunts, standing so that he can better thrust into his hand while pumps himself. The quiet pit-pat of dripping lube is drowned out by the constant noise streaming from his mouth, a primal mixture of curse words and grunts. He thoughts swerve to how your face would look, smeared lipstick and rolling eyes with little tears as you try and deep throat his humble Junker cock. Best you ever had, for sure. Absolutely. 

Just a little more. 

You would make the cutest little moans, he was sure. Your voice was already adorable to him, and he could easily imagine the sexy little noises you would make for him. Even better, would you leave rings of lipstick on him, marking him up. Your peachy lips wrapped around his head, sucking and pulling and -

His thought was cut off as the most intense orgasm in several years hit him unexpectedly. He saw stars, fireworks, and darkness. Bombs that made the blood in his ears pound so loud he couldn’t hear the strangled noises his own mouth was trying to make. For the first time in so long, there were no thoughts running through his head. The blankness stayed for several moments, his breathing labored and his body shaking. 

Junkrat opens his eyes. His prosthetic arm grasps the edge of the workbench so hard that the wood has splintered under his fingertips. The floor underneath of the workbench is striped with cum, the unhindered flow now lazily dripping from his reddened head. Thoughts began to come back slowly, nagging at the edges of his mind. 

The door. 

Frantically glancing towards the far end of the room, the door is still closed. A sigh of relief escapes him, as he has managed to wrangle out another demon without alerting anyone of importance. Maybe next time he can convince somebody to help him, he thinks as his reddened ears darken a little more. These fantasies won’t satisfy forever.


End file.
